Tag Archives: Retirement

Florida Sunsets and Friends

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Florida Sunsets and Friends

Today was quiet and yet I’m exhausted. Our grand kids came for Sunday dinner. We have enjoyed the weekly ritual since they moved here in January. Janine prepared a new pasta dish, Rigatoni with zucchini sauce. I didn’t have to do everything just some things and still I’m dog tired and ready for bed, but thankful; I have their support and friends.

People I can phone in the middle of the night and say, “I have a flat tire. Can you pick me up?”

They’d answer, “Where are you?” Then say, “I’ll be there in . . .”

Many of these people I’ve known for sixty years. Others for twenty-five or thirty. Some for only a few.

I’m lucky!

    . . . just saying

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Day Eight Back In Florida

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At Denver Airport in the morning, there was no transport person!

There was however, one wheel chair inside the door, which I grabbed away from an elderly woman; took outside, put Bob in and brought him indoors; where I could see him while checking in.

Thank God for Betsy and Bill. They waited curbside looking after Bob and our luggage while I’d been inside. We had a tearful goodbye.

Now the attendant assigned to us appeared. However, he had another person in tow. Before I could blink, he took off for security pushing two wheel chairs. I scurried behind.

I had instructed my husband, to lie about his age going through security and say he is 75 years old, this way he wouldn’t have to take off his shoes or stand up.

Praise the Lord, we didn’t wait in line. The second transport, a woman, was late for her flight and checked her Apple watch repeatedly, as I piled her carry on belongings into bins.

Then Homeland Security was about to wand Bob, and I panicked.

“Don’t do that!” I yelled as I raced to Bob’s side. “His arm is broken!” .

“STEP BACK LADY,” he bellowed with his hand on his gun.

 Bob remembered to lie. But said he was 74, not 75 yrs old. He is 73. Men!

The ordeal had me shaken, but not for long because. . . now. . . “transport guy” was racing toward a waiting train. I realized he was getting on and followed, running, but I couldn’t keep up. So, before the doors closed, jumped in any car. . . and started to spill my guts to a stranger I was now face to face with.

I couldn’t even remember the terminal our flight would leave from, although the tickets were in my hand. I was dizzy, although it may have been my vertigo.

When I caught my breath, I saw “transport guy” in the next car. He waved.

I’ll skip the flight and transport ordeal on the arrival side and simply say we were picked up by our daughter, Janine and grandson, Dominic.

We drove directly to the emergency room of our local hospital and waited six hours before Bob had an emergency room bed. Sometime later, he was given morphine for pain. The next day, day nine, Bob was admitted for surgery. The surgery, delayed due to an allergic reaction, was on day twelve, June 26th, our 51st Wedding Anniversary.

Every step along the way had sidesteps and challenges. He now has a nine-inch rod in his arm and three weeks post operation is doing well.

As Betsy, Bill, Bob and I lamented, this was one hell of a Yellowstone trip.   

. . . just saying

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The Day Wasn’t Over

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Sun Set Grand Tetons Park 9PM

I would love to tell you we returned to the $400+ dollar night Inn and got a good night’s rest. . . but, the day wasn’t over yet.

Bill and I were helping Bob out of the car, when his face went, “lights out.” I grabbed his chin and looked directly into his eyes. “Talk to me! What’s happening?” Then, he fell to his knees. I think we all screamed.

Fortunately, a nurse and her strong husband had just left their cabin and knew how to support Bob without injuring his fractured shoulder more and moved him to a chair in our cabin. Betsy called 911.

Hotel staff arrived in a flash and determined acute pain caused his near collapse. We got him into bed, double dosed the pain medication, and gave him something for nausea.

My beginning to catch a breath was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was another staff member with paperwork to sign. A kid, probably my grandson’s age.

Understandably the hotel needed to document the incidents. I reassured him it was a simple trip and fall. We weren’t going to solicit a lawyer.

Like Danny on Blue Blood’s, he handed me paper and pen. “In your own words. If you wouldn’t mind.” He expressed his appreciation once the forms where completed and asked . . . emphatically, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

Well there was. My concern was getting Bob, weak and under the influence, to the bathroom. How many times does an 73 man void during the night? I’d lost count.

“Do you have a urinal?”

“No,” he said, embarrassed.

On the counter behind him was my wide mouth water bottle. I glanced its way, his eyes followed mine.

“Problem solved,” I said.

Shortly after, Betsy brought me dinner. A pork sandwich with homemade cold slaw she’d packed. Remember if the park opened food might be hard to find. Oh yes and a large bottle of wine.

It was around 10PM and the sun had finally set.

. . . just saying

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Monday, Day Five of Vacation

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Jackson, Wyoming the morning of

The next day, after breakfast, we checked out and wandered around Jackson, mostly shopping and people watching. After lunch we headed north into the Grand Tetons National Park. The temperature dropped as the elevation climbed to 10,000 ft and once inside the park the temperature was about 40 degrees, although the sun had came out.

We checked in at 4:15PM. Why do I remember the precise time? Because like most accidents the events are played over in slow motion. We drove to our close by cabin.

I carried my luggage inside the cabin then heard a scream. We ran outside to find my husband lying on the ground.

The above pictures tell the story. Bob tripped holding his ipad, fell, and fractured his right shoulder. Betsy call 911. Hotel staff came immediately in a golf cart, knew not to move him, and called for an ambulance. It was raining and temperatures continued to drop. We grabbed blankets. The man layered their winter jackets underneath a garbage bag hoping to prevent shock, The ambulance, traveling from outside the park arrived one hour later. The ride back was the same one hour over bumpy roads. Doctors at St. John’s hospital determined Bob probably need surgery but didn’t argue. A man with his medical history needed to be home to Florida. He was discharged, arm in a sling with pain medication.

The process took hours.

Betsy and Bill had followed the ambulance and patiently sat in the ER waiting room wondering what to do.

“Well girlfriend,” I said, calling on my cell phone. “You’ll have to go shopping. Bob has nothing to wear. That really nice blue checked shirt was cut off.”

. . . just saying

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Day Three of Vacation

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Fort Collins

Friday morning, cool temperatures in Fort Collins were a welcome relief from the heat and humidity of Florida. We walked their dog, sipped coffee and read the newspaper while our friends were at the hospital.  Things went well.

Because Yellowstone was closed due to heavy rains and flooding, Betsy and I spent several hours cancelling and re-booking, hotel , dinner reservation and excursions a year in the making, and found accommodations in Jackson Hole and the Grand Tetons. The original plan was to drive to Jackson Hole, Wyoming, an eight hour trip. Spend one night. Then Grand Teton Hotel (one hour away) for one night, and three nights inside Yellowstone.

We worked side by side with two computer and two cell phones, hoping Yellowstone would open on Wednesday.

It was exhausting and . . . time to go shopping.

Money Magazine, named Fort Collins the “Best Place to Live” in the western United States among small cities in 2006. Old Town is its main core where the city’s history began. The Fort Collins Museum, which was created as the Pioneer Museum in 1941, retains the first settler’s hut and two other historic structures in its courtyard. The Avery House and a section of the old city center are on the National Register of Historic Places.

It is a beautiful college town with flowers everywhere.

Families sauntered about, their children splashed in street ponds and the dogs were well behaved.

. . . just saying

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Day Two of Vacation

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Yellowstone was closed! My friend had phoned the day before to explain there were additional sidesteps. Her husband needed an unanticipated medical procedure the day after our arrival and her air conditioning was on the fritz. Always the optimist, I said, “We haven’t seen you in ages and there is lots to do in Colorado.”

Our flight was on time and arrived as scheduled. We visited the Gaylord Hotel, a spectacular lodge rising-up in the flat plains close to Denver International Airport and had lunch. It’s about an hour drive to Fort Collins and Bill insisted we take the scenic route father than Route 25 to avoid construction, traffic delays and vehicle accidents. And we did see some sights; housing construction competing with fracking fields. However, in the north the brown flat lands turn green with flowers and lakes.

The men retired early and the women watch “Being the Riccardo’s” staring Nicole Kidman. I loved everything about the movie.

The air conditioning repair person was scheduled for the next day and we slept comfortably with a ceiling fan and the windows open.

Things might work out just fine.

Continue reading →

Day One of Vacation

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A chartreuse pillow similar in shape and size to a to a large dog bone sat on a purple couch in the hotel lobby. The clerk was all smiles telling us we were early. So, we sat on the purple sofa and waited, mesmerized by a carpet cleaner. The bubbling steamer was pushed back and forth by a housekeeper determined to suck up its remains. The noise and disinfectant smell quickly drove us outside into the Florida heat and sun, which was worse. So, back inside. . . we stood, as the lobby was now crowded. An audience of turning heads as though attending a tennis match watched silently, and I wondered if they would applaud.

Upstairs, I loved the room and fantasized about living in a Tiny House before we headed out to dinner. The restaurant was with-in walking distance, but we decided not to walk hearing thunder, once downstairs.

So, my husband took the elevator to get his car keys, but returned saying the room key didn’t work. He held out the key to examine and discovered he was using a hotel business card to open the room door.

The sky opened-up with what is called “Big Rain” in Florida, as we drove to the restaurant and although wet, we eventually we had dinner.

Day one of the vacation from hell.

. . . just saying

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Happy Fourth of July

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Bob and I have returned from a “vacation” in Yellowstone and the Grand Tetons. It is a long story that I am working on. In the mean time I hope you enjoy my poem, written some time ago. Its a favorite of mine.

The Itsy Bitsy Bug

Red White and Blue

Can an itsy bitsy bug be patriotic?
His red, white, and blue symbolic,
A political view
Understand freedom . . . be equal too

Like a school age kindergartner
Raise his hand to hold the flag
Chosen, glad with honor
Knows to say a prayer

Can an itsy bitsy bug be patriotic?
Puff his chest, recite the pledge
Listen to a voice within
Battle for the helpless, or let the bullies win!

Stand side by side with those who care
Silently and stare
Misty eyed while taps is played for those who dare
Think America is beautiful

Can an itsy bitsy bug be patriotic?

. . . just saying

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Tangled In Your Underwear

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dry tree twigs with small berries in autumn
Photo by Jonathan Borba on Pexels.com

Help me here, is tangled in your underwear a metaphor, colloquialism or good advice?

Regardless, it happened to me and I’m wondering. . . .Has this happen to you?

Let me start at the beginning. I lost my balance and things were getting scary. Fear of falling resulted in my sitting down to put my pants on. It was vertigo.

A physical therapist shook the crystals out and explained, that although poor balance is assumed to go hand in hand with aging, behavior changes are a huge factor and the root cause of my loss of balance.

She was right. I was holding on to kitchen counters, walked with my arm tucked under someone else’s and sat down to put my pants on.

She recommended an exercise program.

The good news; my balance was restored, and I set a goal to dress standing up and had success except when my toes got tangled in my underwear.

Pointing my toes provided mediocre results as did wearing socks.

It is a daily challenge, so here are a few tips:

  1. Always have a bench or chair behind you.
  2. Practice standing on one foot leaning against a counter or wall, first.
  3. Graduate to standing on one foot with your eyes closed and then the other.
  4. When you’ve mastered the above introduce the underwear; concentrate hard and one leg at a time . . . go for it.
  5. Expect to wobble but refuse to fall-down.
  6. Continue to do balance exercise, daily, for the rest of your life.

. . . just saying

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Lemon, Orzo and Meatball Soup

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Today, I was tempted to write about Kyrie Irving’s $50,000 fine, or Johnny Depp’s and Amber Heard’s domestic abuse claims; Putin and the war or (don’t even go there) Florida’s political shenanigans, but instead, I decided to make soup.

Lemon, Orzo and Meatball Soup really does help one “Escape the Daily Grind.” The recipe appeared in the October 2013 issue of Southern Living. It takes some time to prepare things and I was thrilled my husband volunteered to help. Bob shaped the meatballs, peeled and cut the carrots; and then asked; what do you want done to the lemons? “Zest them,” I said over my shoulder and leaving the kitchen to write.

An hour later when I returned and found the lemons peeled.

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Would you complain? And all was not lost; I chopped and diced the lemon peel as you would cloves of garlic and the taste and texture was actually better.

There is a note to self at the top because, the soup is better when you follow the recipe. . . that’s the truth Edith-Ann.

. . . just saying

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